


the same coin

by ShyAudacity



Series: Riverdale Prompt Fills [5]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexual Jughead Jones, Cheryl Blossom Needs a Hug, Cuddling & Snuggling, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Jughead Jones Needs a Hug, Kissing, Mentions of suicide attempt, Milkshakes, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Prompt Fill, Rare Pairings, idk maybe a little, its not discussed but
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-11-05 05:01:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11006529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShyAudacity/pseuds/ShyAudacity
Summary: “Is there something else that you wanted to talk about? Other than your half-assed thank you, I mean.”She doesn’t meet his eye. “Maybe I just like your company. Did you ever think about that?”“Yeah,” He huffs. “Said no one ever.”“I’m serious, Jughead.” She snaps, glancing around once she realized she’d been louder than expected. “You’re the only one that gets it. You get what it’s like to have a family that doesn’t pay attention to you like they should, to have parents that just brush you aside like it’s nothing."ORanon asked: Could do a Jughead/Cheryl fic where they bond over milkshake dates with pretty please?





	the same coin

**Author's Note:**

> Not gonna lie, I wasn't sure about this prompt when I first got it but once I started I was hooked. Thanks, anon.  
> Unbeta'd and title from what RAS said about these two being two sides of the same coin. Iconic.

A few weeks after the Jubilee and the robbery, Jughead is in his usual booth at Pop’s, working on the epilogue to his novel when Cheryl Blossom walks in. She heads straight for him once she’s spotted him, sliding into the opposite side of his booth, making herself comfortable. He waits a full five minutes before speaking to her, finally caving in to his curiosity.

“Is there something I can help you with, Cheryl?” He asks, his tone emotionless.

“I realized that you were the only misfit toy that I hadn’t formally thanked for pulling me out of the river, so…thanks. Or whatever.”

“Archie pulled you out, not me. You should be thanking him.”

“Besides the point, you were there and I felt like being nice today, just go with it. Where is the long lost Weasley brother anyways? Aren’t you two like conjoined at the hip or something? Or Betty for that matter, why isn’t she here?”

“First of all, Betty and I aren’t an item anymore, for the record. So, any digs you were going to make about our relationship can take their rightful place in the shitter. Secondly, Archie is at home. After what happened to his dad I doubt that he plans to come back here any time soon. Frankly, I don’t blame him. I wouldn’t want to come back here if I saw my dad get shot right in front of me.”

Cheryl hums in response, picking at the seam of her coat. Jughead finally looks up at her, he notices the sad look on her face, the same one he’d seen his mother wear for years. It leaves him feeling unsettled and unable to focus, so he decides to do something about it. Words tumble out of his mouth before he can consider them.

“Is there something else that you wanted to talk about? Other than your half-assed thank you, I mean.”

She doesn’t meet his eye. “Maybe I just like your company. Did you ever think about that?”

“Yeah,” He huffs. “Said no one ever.”

“I’m serious, Jughead.” She snaps, glancing around once she realized she’d been louder than expected. “You’re the only one that gets it. You get what it’s like to have a family that doesn’t pay attention to you like they should, to have parents that just brush you aside like it’s nothing. I understand how it feels to have a sibling ripped away from you.”

“My parents never-.”

“Really? Then how come you’re here in Riverdale and not with your mom and your sister, huh? If you’re about to say that they never screwed you over then why didn’t you go with them?”

Jughead tightens his hands into fists. “No one asked if I wanted to go with them.”

Cheryl sits back, giving him a miserable look.

“I’m sorry,” she mutters. “I didn’t know.”

Jughead shrugs, going back to his novel. As he works, she sits across from him quietly, keeping herself occupied with her phone. He works for another hour, looking up at the red-haired girl periodically. The same sad look is still on her face; Jughead tells himself that with everything that has happened in the last few months, that he’d be frowning too if he was in her shoes.  

“Do you wanna split a milkshake?” he asks.

She looks up at him, surprised. “Appreciated, but I have to get home. Mommy will be upset if I’m late again.”

“You still call her Mommy?”

“You still wear that beanie that you’ve had since kindergarten?” Cheryl accuses, glaring at him. She pulls her purse strap higher up on her shoulder, pausing when she sees him packing up his things.

“What are you doing?”

Jughead holds out his arms as if to say _what does it look like I’m doing?_   “I’m walking you home.”

“Why would you do that?”

He shrugs. “Maybe I felt like being nice today, too.”

*

Milkshake dates become a thing for them after that. The first few aren’t planned, but after the third run in, they make it official. Every Thursday after River Vixens practice, Cheryl will meet up with Jughead at Pop’s and they’ll split a Strawberry with Hot Fudge Milkshake. Jughead always makes sure to leave enough time to walk her home before he has to be back at his foster family’s house.

“Are they nice? Your foster family, I mean.” Cheryl asks him one afternoon, halfway to her house.

“I guess so. I think they feel bad for me more than anything else, it’s hard to hold a conversation when someone keeps looking at you like a kicked puppy.”

“Yeah…I hear you.”

She doesn’t speak up for the rest of the walk, and Jughead doesn’t try and force it either.

On days when they feel like the whole world is trying to destroy them, they don’t speak to each other, they just drink their milkshake then head home. Jughead would tell you that those are his favorite days, the ones where he doesn’t feel like he has to explain himself or what he’s feeling to anyone else.

More often than not they bicker with each other over little things, like whether or not pineapple belongs on a pizza. The two of them have decided to agree to disagree over who played the best Spiderman. The arguments, if you could even call them that, always end before they get too heated or someone gets their feelings hurt.

Cheryl wouldn’t dare tell anyone this, but her Thursday Milkshake dates with Jughead have become the highlight of her week.

*

Another Thursday has rolled around, but Cheryl wasn’t at school that day, so Jughead is a little more than surprised when she slides into their usual booth. He gives her a confused glare.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were sick.”

“What? And miss this?” She questions, her voice raspy. “I think you underestimate what a little sleep and some cough drops can do, Jones. Besides, I would hate to let you down.”

Jughead feels his heart skip a beat, but ignores it. His feelings, whatever they may be, can wait for a later day.

*

Somewhere around March, after months of Thursday Milkshake dates, Cheryl takes it upon herself to sit with the “Sad Breakfast Club” at lunch. Jughead doesn’t question it, just scoots over so she has room to sit next to him. The rest of the table, however, goes silent. Bewildered at the sight in front of them.

Archie, feeling both brave and afraid, leans forward. “Jug, why is she sitting with us?”

“Because she can?” He shoots back, giving him slight side eye. “Last that I checked there wasn’t a rule as to who could sit with us.”

No one else says a word about it, and Cheryl sits with them every day after that. That next Thursday, Jughead holds her hand for the first time when he walks her home. She grins from ear to ear for the rest of the night.

When her mother comments on her sudden bout of joy, she lies, says that she’s simply feeling like herself again. She doesn’t want to tell anyone about what she has going on with Jughead just yet. Cheryl isn’t ready for the rest of the world to come along and wreck the one good that she has going on, the only thing that has been keeping her going as of late.

No, this is a secret that she’s going to keep as long as she can possibly manage.

*

“Can I kiss you?”

Jughead’s fingers come to a halt over his keyboard. “Why?”

For a moment, Cheryl reverts to her sass-filled, defensive self. “It’s just a question, don’t be a spaz. You can say no, it’s not like I’m going to step in front of a truck if you hurt my feelings.”

He mocks a laugh at her comment, returning to his History final that he’d been writing. Yet, he finds his mind to have gone blank, now incapable of relaying any of the ways that Alexander Hamilton helped shape this nation. Jughead closes his laptop, making a split-second decision to be done for the day.

Cheryl looks up from her phone to see him already halfway towards the door.

“Where are you going? We haven’t finished our shake yet.” 

He cocks his head at the exit and she bites her lip, lipstick be damned. She throws down a few random dollar bills before getting up, following Jughead outside. He stands there, leaning against the wall of the restaurant like he planned this whole interaction himself. He gives the redhead a sly grin, moving closer to her.

“So…are you gonna kiss me or what?”

Cheryl doesn’t hesitate, advancing on Jughead as soon as he is within reach. She grabs the lapel of his jacket, pulling him as close as possible. It’s not her first kiss, nor is it the best kiss she’s ever shared, but it’s certainly her favorite. She wishes that it would never end; her heart races as she moves her mouth against his, wanting more than she knows she’s likely to get.

Too soon to her liking, Jughead pulls away. Cheryl stifles a laugh at the sight of her Coffee & Cream colored lipstick smeared around the edges of his mouth.

He wipes a hand over his mouth and makes the mess worse, a faint brownish line dragging across his cheek. Cheryl continues to giggle, dropping her head to his shoulder. A warm hand comes to rest on the small of her back, and she swears it’s the best moment of her entire life.

*

The summer brought unbearably hot temperatures and the all too familiar feeling of grief, the knowledge of what was coming weighing down on Cheryl. Penelope left a few days before July started, saying that she had things that needed to be handled out of state. According to her, these things would take until at least July 12th to resolve, maybe later if they didn’t go as planned.

“No, you _cannot come_ , don’t be ridiculous.” She had snapped when Cheryl asked to come with her.

She told Jughead about it the next day on their weekly milkshake date. He’d squeezed her hand across the table, then offered to stay with her for the first few days as to keep her from feeling alone during what would no doubt be a hard week. So here they are, four days into her mother’s “Business Trip”, the morning before The 4th of July. Jughead hasn’t left since he got to Thornhill yesterday afternoon, and for now he makes no plans to leave.

The two of them are watching _Legally Blonde_ in the den because he knows that it’s Cheryl’s favorite movie. Her head is in his lap and he scratches her scalp with his blunt fingernails, both of them spread out of the sofa. She hasn’t said anything all morning and Jughead doesn’t blame her, but he’s still worried to say the least. The movie is nearly over before she speaks up.

“I’m sorry,” She whispers. “…about what my family did to your dad. I wish it hadn’t happened.”

“I know,” he tells her softly. “You wouldn’t love me if you weren’t sorry, I don’t doubt that.”

Cheryl sits up, her hair smacking against his chest as she looks at Jughead. Her heart stops, her throat closes, her stomach falls to the floor, landing at her feet. She hadn’t gotten around to saying the L word yet, but she had been thinking it for quite some time. It was, in her experience, that the people she loved left her one way or another, despite her best efforts. Cheryl had purposely not said the word around Jughead, afraid she might scare him off.

She gapes at him. “How-?”

“I’ve known since the day you slid into my booth at Pop’s, it was written all over your face.” He says, rubbing a hand down her arm. “I had an inkling, at least. You don’t have to _really_ say it if you’re not ready, I won’t hold it against you. Whether you realized it or not…I know how you feel.”

Her heart flutters, this time out of joy opposed to panic.

“What about you?” Cheryl asks, her tone hopeful. “Do you- you know?”

Jughead doesn’t meet her eye, but nods then weaves one of his hands with hers.

A small grin grows across both of their faces while neither one is looking. The credits roll as Cheryl lies down again, Jughead shifting to match her position. The two of them curl around each other, her head resting in the dead center of his chest, one of his hands on the back of her neck. Never mind the fact that it’s barely one in the afternoon, the two of the drift off, at peace with the world for a fleeting moment.

**Author's Note:**

> I can already tell that I'm gonna be a sucker for this ship.
> 
> Thanks for reading! If you liked it please feel free to leave a kudos or a comment. If you have a prompt for me, you can leave it here or at my riverdale blog via tumblr (thejugheadchronicles). Thanks again for taking the time to read my fic, I hope that you have a great day!


End file.
